


Kingdom

by The_Grand_Fox



Category: Supernatural
Genre: #Supernatural #SamAndDean #SamAndOFC #Smutt #RoughSex #Concensual #, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-25
Updated: 2019-03-25
Packaged: 2019-12-07 15:45:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 18,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18236945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Grand_Fox/pseuds/The_Grand_Fox
Summary: Takes place in Season Two, 2006, while the brothers are still coping with  the death of their father, solving paranormal mysteries one by one as they search for The Yellow-Eyed Demon, the demon responsible for both their mother and father’s death. To put the timeline into perspective, the boys had met Ellen and her daughter Jo at the Roadhouse nearly a month ago, and Dean has just completed the full restoration of the Impala after their horrendous accident. The boys are back on the road, and just got word from Ellen that Martin Creaser, a fellow hunter, was seen on a security camera in New London Connecticut, despite being declared filed as missing thousands of miles away in his small hometown in Colorado. Ellen informs the brothers that solving Martin’s disappearance might help them find answers about the demon, as Martin is an extensive collector of ancient paranormal texts that could prove useful in their fight against The Yellow-Eyed Demon.





	Kingdom

Part One

The Hidden Kingdom Bookshop had been a sanctuary to Roe Creaser bell all of her life. The walls were lovingly layed with colorful books from top to bottom, like a quilt stitched together with care. The sun would shift its way through the windows high over head, it’s milky rays catching on dancing dust particles and placing warm patches of light throughout the shop. The sun would occasionally find its way to a shelf, and surrender it’s warmth to the aged books so that the ink scrawled pages and glue filled binding would warm like incense.  
The smell of a book going yellow and brittle with age is immediately recognizable. The universal smell could be found in libraries, antique bookshops, even that free book box sitting discarded outside of some chainbook store. To some people the smell was stale and mildly bothersome. To Roe, it was like a drug. It was a very sweet odor in her opinion--the smell of comfort, especially knowing that the scent came from words that someone had gathered with care and consideration. The same words that were purposely gathered to waken one’s imagination with thought and wonder, could turn into a whole new sensory detail outside of one’s mind.  
Really, if Roe thought about it long enough, it was like she was surrounded with the scent of new worlds. As a child she would roam the shelves of her Uncle Martin ’s shop for hours, pretending they were the great big walls of her hidden kingdom. As she grew up, she hung up the metaphysical tearra to her kingdom and replaced it with a work apron. However, the Hidden Kingdom Bookshop never lost it’s magic. Not completely anyways. She may have grown up a bit since starting university near by, but she’d only switched living out her imagination for writing it all down.  
Reading and writing was the best sort of escapism Roe had found. She must have read every book in the shop at least once by now. She even stumbled her way through the German section, using google translate as her study companion. The only thing left unread by Roe in the whole shop, was her Uncle’s private collection.  
Somewhere in this building were ancient books and scrolls that her Uncle collected over a lifetime, and then squirrelled away in some secret library that Roe was never aloud in. She remembered stumbling across this hidden room once, so long ago that for the life of her, she couldn’t remember where it was. She couldn’t remember how she’d even gotten there, there was no hidden doorway that she could recall from her memory. It was maddening to her as an adult. She’d only remembered walking along the maroon carpet, running a finger along leather spines of old books, until her Uncle found her there. For a while, she thought she had dreamed it up, that maybe she had imagined the whole thing.  
That sort of escapism was Roe’s specialty, drifting off into her lively imagination at any point in time. Usually. She was studios and level headed throughout high-school and college, sure, but her love for the fiction often manifested as wistful day dreaming. It felt cliche, but she had to admit that something felt off for her lately, and she knew exactly what it was.  
Roe didn’t know why she returned to work so soon after her Uncle Martin ’s disappearance. Sure, she needed some sort of distraction… and even though work at the shop didn’t do half the job of distracting her that she had hoped for, someone had to be there to run the place. And that someone might as well be Roe. It had to be Roe, and her uncle made sure of it.  
He’d left the entire godforsaken place in her vastly unprepared hands, business and all. And none of it settled right in Roe’s mind. Why had her uncle all of the sudden up and left, or was stupid enough to get taken? Roe knew her uncle was a good man, but he was a foolish one.  
Roe sighed, snapping her book closed; it was of no use at distracting her. She made her way to the kitchenette of the small reading lounge. There she splashed cold water from the sink onto her face, hoping the icy water would snap her back into her own mind. She needed her focus, especially since the lack of customers at the shop would allow her to start work on her assignment in Writing Children’s Literature.  
After patting her face dry with a hand towel, Roe looked herself in the mirror for a long while. Focus, she told her reflection… but it was no use. The pitiful woman looking back at her had coping to sift through; there was no hope in putting a pencil to paper today. Or fingers to a keyboard, anyways. She couldn’t even look at her reflection without her thoughts drifting like they were caught in a tide.  
Were those bags under her eyes? How much sleep had she gotten in the past week, anyways? When was the last time that ghost-white skin of hers saw some sun? Enough, Roe told herself as she turned back towards the counter. Roe’s heart plummeted when she had turned only to bounce off of someone’s chest.  
“Oh Jesus!” The words of shock escaped Roe as she lost her footing, but before she fell she was caught her at her elbows.  
“Nope.” The surly voice in front of her answered. “Just me.”  
Roe looked up, no clue as to who ‘just me’ actually was. He didn’t look familiar, but he couldn’t have been much older than Roe; mid to late 20’s at the most. He was clean shaven, hair somewhere between dirty-blond and brown that was cropped shorter at the sides and gelled up along the front. He had a bit of 5:00 shadow along his chiseled jaw. He was definitely an attractive specimen, and the lopsided smile stretched over his lips exuded a confidence that told Roe he knew it.  
“I know,” He suddenly says, throwing her a wink. “I get distracted by myself too.”  
There was nothing on the whole of God’s green Earth that was more dangerous than a man who knew he was that damned good looking. Roe noticed the man still had ahold of of her elbows, and quickly shook off his grip.  
“And just who are you?” She asked, crossing her arms.  
“Hey, uh…” Roe hadn’t noticed the other man, who came up behind the first guy with a quick wave. “I’m Sam Arnold, this is my brother Dean. We were hoping to talk to Martin Creaser, is he in?”  
Sam towered over Dean, his head of wavy brown locks nearly grazing the lowest of the ceilings beams. He had softer features than his brother, and far less of a cocky stature.  
“Oh, well…” Roe sighed, instinctively thumbing the small rounded charm on her necklace. A gift from Martin just before he’d left. “I wish I could help you with that, I really do… unfortunately my Uncle isn’t here. He’s been gone for a while, and there’s no telling when or if he’s coming back. Might I ask what this is about?”  
Dean threw his brother a look that Roe couldn’t quite place, and they both sighed.  
“We are so sorry to hear about that, he’s missing huh?” Sam asked solemnly. “We’re actually old workmates of his. We’re in town for a while, and we figured we’d hop in and catch up for a spell. What a shame, he was a real swell guy.”  
“Workmates?” Roe asked doubtfully. “That sounds unlikely. He never worked outside of this shop… and If you had worked here I’d have known or at least recognized you.”  
“Well we didn’t work with him, necessarily.” Dean offered. “We had business with him… you know, books… and stuff.”  
“Books... and stuff.” Roe repeated, and crossed her arms skeptically. She wasn’t quite sure about any of it. Martin was a good man, yes, but never social enough that people would willingly come back ‘for a spell’. Martin was a recluse at best.  
“So you’re one of his suppliers? Who are you with, then?”  
“Oh, no one in particular.” Sam said with a smile, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. “We’re just private collectors. It’s been several years since he last bought or traded with us. Maybe longer. That’s sure an interesting charm you’re fidgeting with, if you don’t mind me asking… what’s that symbol about?”  
“I don’t know, it was a gift.” Roe said, eyeing them over still.  
Private collectors usually had money to spare, and a skill for flaunting it. And while their flannel and leather attire might suggest some hipster aversion to the clean-cut, there were no designer or even indie labels on their clothing. They wore jeans that were tattered from work--not tattered for style--and scuffed low end work boots. Nothing about these kids was flashy. And for another thing, they were practically kids. Sam obviously youngest of them. Neither of them, especially Sam, looked old enough to have a started a collection of antique books by their age… let alone did they look old enough to have traded from said collection ‘several’ years ago.  
“So you traded with Martin several years ago, is that what you said?”  
“Sure did.” Dean answered.  
“Back when you were...what? 16, or younger?” Roe laughed. “Because trading and collecting antique books is such a focus of kids that age.”  
Roe was sure she wasn’t imagining the raised brows that the boys exchanged.  
“Well, what can we say?” Dean clapped together his hands with a shrug. “It’s a family business. Our parents started us off young.”  
“Yea,” Sam continued, throwing his brother a chancy look. “It’s our parents collection really, just passed down to us… but, again, we’re so sorry to hear about your Uncle.”  
“Of course,” Dean agreed with a nod. “And, If you don’t mind us asking, what happened to the poor guy?”  
“Were not aloud to talk about it with the investigation still going on.” Roe told them, turning her attention to tidying a nearby shelf.  
It wasn’t even a store shelf, just a dusty wooden shelf with cleaning supplies for the kitchenette, but she hoped Sam and Dean would leave if she looked busy. She would look them up after they were gone. If there was no proof of Sam or Dean Arnold in his books, she’d have to mention this to the police. It was suspicious they showed up only a week after Martin’s disappearance, and with so many questions at that. The police said it could have been a robbery gone bad, and that tall guy sure had an eye on her jewelry. Not that it was expensive, by any means--so if they were robbers, they were pretty incompetent ones.  
Roe pondered that a moment as she took out a dusting rag, and played the circumstances of her Uncle’s disappearance through her mind again.  
Sam only followed Roe as she moved through the space to look busy, “Really--ugh, investigation? They don’t know what happened?”  
Roe continued walking, frustrated as all hell they kept on following. She rolled her eyes, her gaze landing outside the glass front of the shop. Parked off to the side, across the road, was a slick black Chevy Impala. Something about that car turned over in her memory. She had seen it, or one like it, before.  
During the time she was distracted with the car, Dean had leaned back against the shelf to her right, and Sam--being the absolute moose that he was--casually stood, blocking her off from the left.  
“So,” Dean said. “Have they ruled out foul play?”  
“They haven’t ruled anything,” Roe mumbled, stepping over Deans outstretched legs.  
She supposed it was hard to tell how or if someone was hurt, when the apartment is too messy to tell if there was a struggle to begin with. Roe had lived with Martin in that cramped and messy apartment for nearly her entire life, there was no signs of struggle that she could find. And wouldn’t she know best?  
Roe had a hard time believing that there were any robbers dumb enough to break into the place, work it in their mind that they needed to take the flighty old man that lived their, and nothing else. Not that there was much of value in the apartment. Any robber with two brain cells to rub together should have gone for the shop, where there was plenty more of worth.  
The police investigated the shop, though… and there was no signs of tampering, nor anything to suggest that the shop was a target. The shop was pristine, and Roe had everything to do with that. The apartment, however, had broken locks to begin with--not to mention the mess had nearly doubled in the few short months that Roe had been away living in her campus dorm. Despite the mess and potential of overlooked details, most police didn’t think the apartment was a target of robbery either. Some police hadn’t known Martin for the true recluse he was, and had it in their head that Martin had gone off on his own fruition.  
None of it, absolutely none of it made sense to Roe.  
“Well, had he been acting suspiciously in the days before he’d gone missing?” Dean pressed, close on her heels. “Any weird things happening around the place?”  
“Weird?” Roe asked, bringing her cloth acrossed already shining wood.  
“Yea, um…” Sam follows too. “Flickering lights, shadows, strange smells and noises. That sort of stuff.”  
“You’ve been reading too many horror books, or something?” Roe couldn’t help but snort, turning to face them with a suddenly sharp eye. “Look, if you’re genuinely concerned then thanks for that, but I don’t know what’s going on with my Uncle right now. Even if I did know what’s going on, why the hell would I share information with two perfect strangers? I don’t know either of you from Adam, so unless you’re going to buy something you need to leave.”  
Dean pursed his lips, “Hey, sister, were ju--”  
Roe snapped an acute glare at Dean as he spoke, but before Dean had the chance to say anything more, Sam grabbed a hold of his shoulder to silence him. The brothers exchanged looks, having a nonverbal conversation that Roe wasn’t privy to. Finally Dean sighed, and turned back to her with a forced smile.  
“You’re right,” Dean pushed through clenched teeth. “I’m sorry.”  
“We’ll leave now,” Sam blinked apologetically, tossing a guilty smile on his lips. “We really hope Martin turns up safe. And sorry, again, for everything.”  
“Sure.” Roe nodded.  
Sam backed away, heading to the door and toeing his brother along behind him. Roe watched intently as they left the shop, walking the length of the counter to keep them in her eyesight as they headed to the Chevy Impala.  
From where Roe stood, she couldn’t make out what their conversation was about. They waved their hands at one another over the hood of the car, heatedly conversing over something that finally ended in them both letting out synchronized sighs. Finally Dean looked at his brother, and mouthed something to him, nodding his head back towards the shop. Sam nodded back, and the two of them shook off the argument, and casually walked away from the car, this time heading to the back of building.  
Roe had a feeling she knew where they were going. 

 

It didn’t take long for Sam to pick the new lock that Roe had bought after her Uncle’s disappearance. With Dean standing on look out next to Sam, he got to work at the locks gears.  
“You sure this is a good idea, man?” Sam asked Dean while he worked. “She could catch us. She lives here too, you know. ”  
“Come on, man up, Sammy. Helen said she’d been staying in her dorm for months now. She’s got to be avoiding this place like a hooker avoids church after her Uncle bounced.” Dean shook his head, “I’m surprised she didn’t recognize us from way back when, though. She ain’t the little girl I remember. She turned into one hell of a looker. Long black hair, sexy gray eyes. A body like J-Lo.” Dean let out a low whistle as Sam pushed open the apartment door, and the two of them slipped into the apartment.  
“Dean, we’re here as a favor to Helen. Here to hunt for what took Martin , or figure out what made him leave. We’re not here to hook up with his grieving niece.” Sam threw his brother a flippant look as they made their way down the short hallway leading to the rest of the apartment. “Don’t you think she’s got a lot on her mind?”  
“Hey, I still stand by what I said on the way here. This ain’t our type of gig. Martin just left. Maybe on business, maybe a hunting trip or something.” Dean didn’t mind much attention to Sams warning, as they made a left turn into the small living room.  
Sam and Dean both let lose a low whistle as they took in the sight.  
“No wonder the police couldn’t confirm or deny foul play.” Sam said “This place is a mess.”  
“No kidding,” Dean agreed. “Dude was obviously a hoarder.”  
“So let’s review what we know.” Sam said, pulling out the EMP from his jacket breast pocket. As Sam scanned the living room, he stated the facts: “Martin Creaser, a former hunter and current recluse, goes missing. He hasn’t left this building in a decade, ever since his wife was killed by that windigo in New Mexico. It’s suspicious that he up and left, so Roe calls in the police, but so far as the police can tell… there’s no telling how or why he’s gone missing.”  
“We know better.” Dean added, scanning the other half of the room with his own EMP. “Because the MO fits the sort of crap that Amias Jones pulled twenty years ago when he haunted this place. Every ten years, on the dot, someone in this building has gone missing. That’s how Martin got this place for cheap, he came here on a hunting trip, the owners before him went missing… so he bought the place, called in Dad, his former marine buddy, to help him take care of the vengeful spirit. What I don’t get, is how Amias Jones came back. We know that Dad helped Martin take out that spirit twenty years ago. We were here for it.”  
“Right.They salted and burned the bones.” Sam added. “So maybe Amias connected his spirit to something else over the years, and bid his time in the past decade until he had strength to do finish what he started.”  
“Yea, but if that’s the case… where does the last piece of the puzzle fit into? Ash sent us a still of a security clip of Martin all the way in New London.” Dean insisted. “So maybe he just skipped town for a simple reason. A reason that’s maybe none of our concern.”  
“Really, Dean? He just up and left for the first time in ten years without telling Roe? Without contacting Roe at all in the week and a half he’s been gone?” Sam began for the millionth time since they’ve been let on this case. “Dean, I’m telling you. We can help here. Martin has been a total shut in since his wife died. If he left, it’s for a big reason. If he left without telling Roe it’s for a bigger reason. We owe it to Hellen to give this our best effort. Hell, we owe it to Roe! She’s been through enough.”  
“Yea, whatever.” Dean said. “I’m not picking anything up on this EMP.”  
“Me neither,” Sam sighed. “I’m going to go check his bedroom, though. Cover all our bases.”  
Before Dean had the chance to deny the issue at hand any more, Sam spoke up from the inside the bedroom. “I’m just thinking out loud here… but Ellen sent us here because a guy was found walking the streets of New London, after being declared missing across the country. A collector of old fine literature, that that can get pretty pricey. What if Martin found something good, something worth a lot.”  
“Could be.” Dean called back. “I’ll look around out here then. Sift through this crap. If he found something, odds are there’s got to be proof somewhere in all this.”

Unknown to Dean or Sam, Roe had been following after them all along. As the two brothers discussed, Roe had been making her way into the apartment. She had found the new lock picked, and the door hanging slightly ajar. Once in the small apartments front hallway, she had reached under the vanity for the sawed-off sheathed underneath it.  
The “Cowboy” that her Uncle Martin had been in his youth still manifested through the anxiety that riddled him as an old man, which is why throughout the mess of the apartment there was a scatter of simple weapons. The shotgun was the most severe of them, even though it wasn’t even loaded with propper buckshot. It was beyond Roe why her Uncle bothered with a shotgun he’d only filled with rock salt.  
‘I don’t want to kill nobody.’ He’d say when she enquired about it ‘Just slows’em down is all, till the cops get here.’  
She always thought that was a thinly veiled argument, and now more than ever she wished the thing had been loaded properly. She cursed under her breath, figuring maybe if this had real buckshot, her uncle would still be around and safe. At least the rock salt was better than nothing, and she prayed it would slow the men down long enough for her to call police like her uncle argued.  
She had found Dean in the living room, too busy shuffling through papers to notice her, as she caught the tail end of the brothers conversation.  
“...old fine literature, that can get pretty pricey.” She could finally make out their individual voices as she crept into the living room, “What if Martin found something good, worth a lot.”  
“Could be.” His brother answered. “I’ll look around out here then. Sift through this crap. If he found something, odds are there’s got to be proof somewhere in all this.”  
When Dean moved on to snoop through the the stack of books and folders nearest the bedroom door, Roe moved in and pressed the nozzle of the gun flush to Deans back.  
“Ah hell,” Dean sighed “Not again. People always do that, but I got to tell you…” Dean turned suddenly, the force of his back pulling the barrel with him, snatching the gun from Roe in one fluid movement. “You really should point it to someone’s head, if you mean business.” He smirked, holding the gun across his chest.  
Roe hauled back quickly, swinging her fist towards his face, Dean hardly dodging as he grabbed ahold of her wrist.  
“Whew,” Dean laughed, gesturing to her captive hand. “I fell for that one befo—”  
Roe brought her knee to his groin, snatching the gun as he toppled over. She quickly brought the butt of it across his face, knocking him on his ass and pinning him to the ground with her foot. She cocked the gun, Dean looking up to see the barrel of the locked and loaded sawed-off pointed to his face.  
“Better?” Roe asked down to him, raising her brow.  
“Hey, ugh, Samy!” Dean called to the doorway beside him, careful not to move. “I could use a little help, here!”  
“Dean, kinda busy he--” Sam rounded the doorway then, taking in the scene, and lifting his hands in a calming gesture. “Hey, lets stay calm. That’s manslaughter you’re talking about. You sure you want that over your head, Roe?”  
“I call it self defense,” Roe corrects. “Besides, the rock salt won’t kill him. It’ll just rearrange his handsome little face, and slow you down enough for me to call the police.”  
“Sammy…” Dean warns, wiggling under Roe’s foot more now, and Roe only pressed the barrel flush to his forehead.  
“First of all, you won’t find anything worth selling up here. Second of all… who the hell are you, and what do you have to do with my Uncle’s disappearance?” Roe demanded.  
“We’re not robbing you.” Sam said carefully, arms still raised. “We were sent here, we lied about who we are and were sorry for that. Our names are Sam And Dean Winchester, does that name sound familiar to you? Your Uncle and our father knew each other.”  
Roe scoffed. “You expect me to believe you’re John’s kids?”  
“You know our father?” Dean asked.  
“I know of him. He and Uncle Martin worked together years back, I remember him being around the shop when we first opened.” She told them. “Martin said to trust him if he ever came buy, but I heard he’s dead. Even if you are his son’s, I don’t have to trust you.”  
“Wait, you remember our Dad being here?” Sam pressed. “Then you should remember us being there too. ”  
But Roe didn’t recognize them, and she already made it obvious that she didn’t trust them.  
“Roe, listen closely, we’re here to help… Helen sent us, from the Road House?” Sam insisted. “We just want to find Martin , the same as you... so put the shotgun down and we can talk about this.”  
“What does another old friend of Martin ’s have to do with this, and why the hell wouldn’t you have told me who you really were to begin with?” Roe rolled her eyes, entirely doubtful, but she let up some weight of the shotgun pressed to deans forehead, still keeping it aimed to him.  
Regretfully Dean used the opportunity to get the upper hand on her. He grabbed her legs and took them out from under her, pushing up off the floor. As Dean hoisted himself up he shoved her down, pinning her and her arms between his legs as he kneeled over her.  
“Easy,” Dean commanded from her, keeping her from squirming in protest by a forearm held over her throat, the other hand tossing the gun back to Sam. “Are you going to behave?”  
“Get off!” Roe growled.  
“I take that as a no.”  
“Dean, take it easy on her. She’s been through hell. Roe, you can trust us. Really.” Sam instisted, throwing the gun on the coach. “Will you let us help you?”  
Roe breathed, forcing her temperament down the best that she could, “Why would you bother helping me? What do you want?”  
“Just to help.” Sam repeated, kneeling beside her to offer a helping hand up. “Dean, get off of her.”  
“But--”  
Sam threw Dean a institant look when he protested, and finally Dean lifted his weight off Roe. She breathed, and ignored Sam’s outstretched hand. She pulled herself into a nearby chair instead.  
“You have one mean hit, kid.” Dean said, nursing the busted lip she’d given him. He plopped on the couch across from her. “Martin took the time to teach you to fight, but I’m guessing he never told you what he did for a living?”  
“Yea, he told me. He was in the military.” Roe corrected Dean with grit. “He said that’s how he met John, the man that saved his life. I always figured they deployed together in the core. War made him paranoid, and especially so after Aunt Claire was killed by those muggers. It terrified him, what people are capable of, so he made sure to teach me how to take care of myself.”  
“Muggers?” Sam asked, his face twisting with confusion.  
“Yea,” Roe sighed. “They went on a vacation to New Mexico about ten years ago, she never came back. Thought friends of Martin ’s would have heard of it.”  
“Oh, we heard...just a little differently.” Dean replied. “Rumor mill, always turning out crap.”  
Roe shot Dean a withering eye, supposing him and the Rumor mill had that in common.  
“Well, something had to have made Helen concerned.” Roe continued. “We never get more than a call a month from her, so what would she send you both here for?”  
“Well, she couldn’t very well send Dad.” Dean answered. “So were the next best thing.”  
“Right, so… did she tell you anything I don’t already know? Did she hear anything of him or about bout him lately?”  
“She, ugh…” Sam pondered his thoughts. “She sent us a still from a video, a security clip in New London.”  
Roe shrugged. “So?”  
“So you’re Uncle’s in New London, kid. No one knows why, because he’s not talking to anybody. Not Helen, not us, not even you. So he’s up to something.”  
“He could be in trouble.” Sam offered quickly. “Our theory is, maybe he found something that got someone on his trail. Something big enough to hurt someone over, and maybe he left to protect you or to find a decent seller. We just want to make sure you and him are safe.”  
Roe scoffed, “That’s a whole lot of maybe’s.”  
“That’s what I’m saying.” Dean exasperates. “So, Roe, maybe you can confirm this. Has he been acting suspicious. Has there been any new books in the shop? Anything that could have lead up to him bailing town.”  
Roe shifted in her seat, thinking long and hard. “Well… yea, he was acting weird. Two and a half weeks ago he seemed really excited about something, and then these phone calls came into the shop. I answered it a few times, it was always the same voice, always asking for him. He’d take the call in his office, and despite being eager at first… he got really nervous after a while. He seemed worked up… but I’d never have guessed he’d leave. He never leaves the shop or appartment, not after what happened Aunt Claire.”  
“And you don’t know who it was on the phone, or what they were talking about?” Dean asked.  
Roe flipped her eyes to him, then away. “I don’t.”  
“What about any new books? Anything new in the shop?”  
“I don’t know. He has a private library. So private he never told me where it wa,s” Roe sighed, and heaved out the chair toward the kitchen. “I need a drink. Do you guys want anything? Coffee? Tea?”  
“Wouldn’t say no to a beer.” Dean answered.  
Roe took three beers from the fridge, and walked her way back to the adjoining living room. She sat the two on the table for them, and popped hers open immediately. Throwing her head back for a long chug, she drained the bottle.  
Sam cleared his throat when she fell back into the chair, “Are you...ugh, even old enough to drink?”  
“I’m 22.” Roe informed him.  
“Right,” Sam continues, shaking off the awkwardness. “So...this library. You haven’t a clue where it is?”  
“I don’t know where it is exactly. It’s somewhere in this God forsaken building, and it’s so frustrating because I swore I found the room once. But it’s like my mind is blocking out the memories. I can’t remember where the hell it was. This is an really old building, and there’s tons of hideaways and nooks to put things. There’s a rumor of this hidden room where members of a secret society met. That’s why we’re called the Hidden Kingdom Bookshop.”  
“And you have no idea, not even a guess where it is?” Dean asked.  
“I’m telling you, I don’t.” Roe said earnestly. “If I did maybe I’d get some answers… but…” She shrugged, wondering if she’d ever get answers. “I feel useless, I wish I could be of more help. I thought I knew my Uncle, the man who raised me… but the longer he’s gone the more questions I find.”  
“We’re going to help you find answers.” Sam said.  
Dean gave a nod, “And maybe, we’ll even find your Uncle.”

 

Part Two

Later that night, after Sam and Dean had left to research the buildings history and layout at the towns library, Roe closed up shop and headed up the back stairway to her and Martin ’s apartment. She had class the next morning, and five new pages due on her semester long project in Writing Children's Literature. Though she hated to admit it, because all she wanted to do was get back to her small single-dorm on campus, she needed a quick pop-in at the apartment. She hadn’t been able to step foot in the apartment until today… let alone sleep there. She had to make sure things were safe, though. That the apartment was sufficiently locked.  
Roe was positive Sam and Dean hadn’t trudged through her room, and certainly hadn’t noticed the fake walls of her closet… let alone had they checked them. Even still, it was her duty to check and make sure it was safe. There was no telling if she could trust Sam or Dean yet.  
She pushed the wood panel wall so that it popped open, and discovered the book safely tucked behind the timber pine railing where she had placed it. She decided it was perhaps best to keep the book on her. Apparently, even with the new lock, the apartment wasn’t safe.  
With everything happening lately, Roe couldn’t help but replaying the last conversation between her and Martin. The strange conversation made more sense now than ever. He had shyly ducked into her room one night after the shop closed, and sat at the edge of her bed with an ancient looking book held tight to his chest.  
He had asked a favor of her, had asked her to take care of an old leather bound book. He told her that it was the most important favore that he could ever ask of her, that it was now her duty to protect it better than any book in the whole shop.  
Hide it, he had said, stash it place so secret that not even I can find it. It’s yours now, and if you keep good care of it… it’ll like pay your whole way through that fancy school of yours. If you pop out some kids one day, it’ll likely pay theirs too.  
Roe remembered scoffing at him. She’d popped off a sarcastic comment about kids, more in effort to cover her genuine curiosity and worry. He’d given her the necklace then, said that it’s an old irish charm that supposedly protects those who wear it. He put it right around her neck, and said it was just the sort of simple thing, with a deep history, that Roe tended to love. He figured the charm was right up Roe’s ally, and he was right. Keeping the necklace on since he’d disappeared helped him feel closer.  
Roe tried to shake off her thoughts as she got to work with the book. If she was going to keep it on her, it would need to blend in. She compared the size of the book with her older textbooks from semester before, finally finding one that was the correct size. She unsheathed the textbook from it’s cover made of thick waxy paper, and folded it around the old leather book. It blended in well, especially when tossed in with the other books in her backpack. Finally she cleaned up, hung up the poster that had covered the fake wall, and left the closet as she’d found it.  
It wasn’t until Roe had turned, taking in the sight of her abandoned room, that her exhaustion hit her. She had planned to return to her dorm, to work on her assignment until she was too exhausted to keep going, and then fall into sleep just in time to catch a cat nap before class. Now that she was in the apartment, with the lock fixed, and chain across the door… it felt safe there. She’d avoided her home for so long, she hadn’t noticed how much she missed it until then.  
The more she thought about it, the more she realized it was the perfect place to start the writing she had needed done. And so, Roe set up work in her small room, lining up a few beers on her desk. She’d sip some bourbon first, from the small glass she poured herself. She hardly drank so much, but she hoped it would help with nerves. Nerves were like kryptonite to writing.  
Despite all the trouble falling in around her, there was something comforting about being back in her childhood room. It’s dusty rose colored walls, and sandy-wood floors felt like the borders of her own little haven. In that safe place, she managed to dive into the exciting world of Princess Alannah and the troubles of her magical kingdom.

Princess Alannah made her way to the lake’s edge, leaving her men to set up camp along the distant grassy knoll that lifted up into the rocky knuckles of snow capped mountains. Tomorrow they’d travel through those mountains, and it was just as comforting knowing that their journey was almost over, as it was frightening that the last of the journey was to be the most difficult part. The mountains were prone to avalanches, magical storms, and rock giants. Much of the path was too small for horses, meaning they would be traveling by foot. As Alannah approached the water, she knew the most difficult part of their journey was yet to come.  
She knelt beside the water, looking out over the skittering surface as it separated the setting sun's light into brilliant orange shards. She saw herself then, in the reflection of the water’s crystalline surface at her feet. Alannah was shocked to see that she hardly recognized the reflection looking back at her. It felt so long since she last saw her reflection… and it occurred to her that the last time she saw herself reflected in the the palace’s hall of mirrors, was also the last that she saw of her father.  
The magic that once ignited the palace’s walls began to fade that very night. The kingdom’s magic had vanished along with King Arnold, leaving the kingdom and all of its chaos in Princess Alannah’s vastly unprepared hands. It had been sheer desperation that caused her to follow the lofty rumor of her father's whereabouts, when she and the kingdom's finest men set out to find him.  
It felt more like a lifetime, than the few months it had really been. Had it only been a few months since her and her father last sat together and discussed the future of the kingdom? Had it only been a few months that she’d been traveling to search for him? She wondered how so much of her reflection changed in the past months.  
Was it the lack of rich palace foods that slendered her childishly round face and body in the past months, sharpening her features and cutting her frame so? Perhaps it was just the reflections angle that made her look as though she was standing taller. No more was the bouncing mane of copper curls she kept, she had cut the curls that her father had lovingly caressed throughout her childhood into a short boyish length that flicked up like flames around her ears.  
She’d borrowed clothing from the men, no longer weighed down by the ornament of those silly gowns. She could move freely now, and she learned she was quite agile while clad in that loose cotton that was cinched on by a leather vest and its many belts. She couldn’t risk being recognized, neither as the Princess or as a woman, for the forests they traveled were littered gruesomely with bandits.  
Despite all the changes--and reasons for them--Alannah couldn’t help but feel that the woman she saw reflected back at her now was infinitely more interesting than the pampered princess in the Hall of Mirrors. She looked older, Alannah determined, and more fierce than she’d ever imagined.  
No, Alannah thought to herself. I haven’t changed, I’ve just grown. 

Roe closed her laptop after deeming she’d done enough work, a sigh of relief escaping her as her day finally came to a close. It was about time for her to crawl up on her bed, and get what rest she could.  
She was making up her bed for sleep when she heard the noise. It came from outside her room, past the living room and in the hallway, something almost like footsteps.  
“H-hello?” Roe called out, making her way slowly out into the living room. The only answer she received was the slight creak of a floorboard. “Who’s there?”  
She made her way to the hallway, picking up the shotgun still laying on the couch. She discovered the hallway was empty when she arrived, and let lose another sigh. Sleep deprivation must have been catching up with her.  
“You’re paranoid,” She mumbled to herself, placing the gun back in its sheath under the vanity.  
When she rounded the doorway back into the living room, she felt the sudden force of a hand being brought down across her face. Collapsing to the ground, Roe looked up to see the masked figure standing above her. Grief shuttered through her, her heart pace quickened as her eyes flashed to the hallway where the shotgun sat. The man stood between her and it. How could she be so stupid?  
“Where is it?” He demanded, a threatening hand raised.  
“W-where’s what?” She asked, her voice hardly audible to even her, as she frantically looked around for something, anything to help her.  
Her question was greeted with another strike to her face, this time with a closed fist.  
“The book!” He demanded, grabbing ahold of the back of Roe’s head and lifting her up by her hair.  
“Uh! I don’t know.” Roe yelped when she was slammed against the wall next to the door. “I don’t know about any specific book, I swear.”  
“Bullshit,” The man heaved her up again, this time throwing her down across the couch, and pinning her belly down under his weight. He leaned in, his hot breath on Roes ear. “Martin owes my boss a little something, and I’m here to collect. If I can’t find the book, I’ll just have to take you instead. Maybe it will weasel that piece of shit uncle of yours out of hiding. Unless you can tell me where the book is. Now.”  
“P-please. I don’t know.” Roe stammered, wriggling to get out from under him, but he just pinned her down tighter. “He kept a lot of books private. Hidden even. I swear I don’t know.”  
“Maybe he took it with him into hiding.” The man straddling Roe breathed out, pressing her deeper into the cushions as he leaned into her, a chuckle rumbling through him. “Maybe he thought he was protecting you by leaving.”  
Roe convulsed with revolt under his weight, mumbling for him to stop when she felt his hand ran over her back. “Stop, please. I don’t have any answers.”  
“Stop?” He asked her, snapping the back of her bra through her shirt. “I’m just getting started,” he breathed into her ear, his teeth grazing her neck as he laughed: “He really should have known better than to leave a...sweet”--he emphasized the word by squeezing a hand around her ass--“young thing like you all alone.”  
Another wave of disgust shook through Roe, manifesting as soft whimpers, the threat of tears stinging her eyes. The wimpers grew into full sobs when she felt his hand slip under her shirt, rough calloused fingers scratching at her bare skin as he fidgeted with her bra strap.  
And then suddenly his entire weight was lifted up off of her, and she used the opportunity to frantically scrambled over the back of the couch, diving for the wooden baseball bat propped against the wall there. She swung as she turned, praying that her blind swing would connect. But the bat was caught mid swing, and she opened her eyes to see it was none other than Dean Winchester who caught it standing before her.  
Sam stood next to him holding the masked man from behind with a knife pressed to his throat.  
“She’s not alone, asshole.” Sam growled, and heaved the man back against the same wall that he had pressed Roe against moments ago.  
“And never--” Sam said while ripping off the man’s mask, finishing his sentence in between throwing wild punches to his face“--touch....her...again.”  
When the man slid down the wall unconscious, Sam added a swift kick to the gut for good measure. Dean yanked the bat from Roe while she stood stunned by the scene, and tossed it to the ground.  
“Are you alright?” Dean demanded, turning her to face him with a grip on her shoulders.  
“Let...go…of me.” Roe leveled Dean with a enraged glare, about as sick and tired as she could get from people touching her. She decided then and there, that if one more person laid a hand on her without consent, she would start personally collecting their kneecaps.  
Dean listened, immediately lifting his hands in surrender as Roe shoved past him. Roe walked slowly over to the bat laying on the ground, her disgust and revulsion doubling over into sheer hatred and animosity that raked within every one of her cells. She pressed her foot to the knob of the bats handle so that it’s barrel lifted up to her waiting hand. She flipped the bat over, both hands wrapping around it’s grip.  
Sam and Dean barely had time to scamper out from in between Roe and her attacker, as she brought the bat down on his unconscious body. She repeated the movement again, and again, bringing the bat down on his upturned hip...only stopping when the bat had broken over him. She straightened, anger slowly dispersing from every part of her as she threw the splintering half of the bat she held to the floor.  
“Fucking prick.” She mumbled, wiping off the blood he had drawn from her lip as she turned away.  
Roe turned to see Sam holding and arm to Deans chest, evidently to prevent him from impeding in on her rage. However, by then they had both stood still with shock--or maybe that was an impressed look on Sam’s face.  
“What?” Roe dared them to comment with a raised brow. “You wanna say something?”  
“Uhh…” Sam shot wide eyes over to his brother, then shook it off like it was nothing.  
“Nope, we’re good.” Dean waved it all off, and forced a smile.  
“Do you recognize him?” Sam asked, slowly making his way towards her.  
Roe turned, studied his face, and sighed. “No. Not a bit. He kept asking for some book.”  
“He could be working for someone.” Dean said. “We shouldn’t stick around. You should come with us, Roe. We can keep you safe at the Motel until we figure out what the hell is going on.”  
“What about him?” Roe jerked her finger to the now moaning, gurgling man on the floor.  
“We’ll put him in the trunk. Then keep him secured at the motel. He’s got to have some of the answers were looking for.” Sam offered. 

“Roe can be one terrifying chick.” Dean said as he and Sam wrestled the man's unconscious body into the wooden chair of their motel room.  
Sam flipped his eyes to the open doorway of the adjoining rooms, making sure Roe was still out of earshot one room over. He could hear the shower starting up in her rooms bathroom, and figured it was safe for them to talk.  
“Yea, no kidding.” Sam let lose an ironic laugh, tying the man down to the chair. “It’s refreshing, that she can handle her own for not being a hunter. Sometime’s this job just feels like babysitting with extra steps.”  
“I hear that.” Dean said, pulling up the other motel room chair to sit in.  
“I think I kind of get how she’s feeling.” Sam sighed, sitting back on the bed.  
The most they could do now was wait for the guy to wake up.  
“Oh, really, Dr. Phil? Enlighten me, why don’t you.” Dean picked up one of his Road Ready magazines, and thumbed through it’s pages.  
“A year ago we were in the same place she is.” Sam insisted. “She was left all alone, the man who raised her doing God only knows while he travels across the country. Without a word, without a clue as to where he is.”  
“That’s a bit of a stretch, don’t you think?” Dean gave Sam a flippant look.“The kid hardly had it as bad as we did, Sammy. So excuse me if my heart doesn’t bleed for the little princess.”  
Sam snorted, “What’s gotten into you?”  
“Nothing. I’m just saying, it’s not like she’s got a pack of demons on her ass. Martin got her mixed up with a bad bunch of people--I’ll say that much. But it’s just people.” Dean nudged the man with his boot, “This is just some scummy guy after Martin’s money, or some book that’s probably worth a lot of money.”  
“You saw that apartment, that shop. The guy has hardly left her a kingdom. If anything he left her with more trouble than the shops worth.” Sam insisted.  
“Dad didn’t leave us with anything except a world of trouble. She’s got it made. She’s gotten her way payed through school, she’s got the business and a home to depend on. I’m not saying she hasn’t had it rough as of late, but she doesn’t need to be coddled. She’s a big girl, and maybe she can handle this herself. We’ve got bigger issues to deal with than some exhunter who made a deal with the wrong people.”  
“Is that what this is about?” Sam wondered. “You don’t think this is worth our time? That we should be hunting for the Yellow-Eyed-Demon? Because you said it before, this is what we do. We help people, Dean.”  
“You said your piece, I said mine.” Dean stood then, picking up his jacket and throwing it over his shoulders as he headed for the door. “I’m just speaking the truth here, Sammy. We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”  
“Where are you going?” Sam demanded, hopping to his feet.  
“Out.” Dean said, opening the motel door. “This guy isn’t waking up anytime soon, no thanks to the Slugger next door.”  
“Dean, come o--” Sam didn’t finish his sentence before Dean slammed the door closed behind him.  
Sam sighed, laying back on the bed and rubbing his temples.  
“Is everything okay?”  
Sam sat up quickly, to see Roe poking her head slightly around the adjoining door, her hair still damp the shower.  
“Yea, ugh...Dean can be…”  
“Sort of a jerk.” Roe finished for him, disappearing behind the door again as she continued with her voice raised. “I get it, the surly man’s man. Martin was like that too, before the hot switch to being a recluse and hoarder.”  
Roe sighed, thinking about how bad luck plagued her uncle.  
“It’s got to be tough, what happened to your Aunt.” Sam said.  
“It was rough, on the both of us… but it can happen to anybody. It’s just part of life.” Roe began to change into her clothes. “You and your brother know that just as well as I do. I was sorry to hear about John.”  
“Yea, me too.” Sam said. “I’m sort of curious, if you remember seeing our Dad around at all?”  
“Honestly,” Roe considered. “Like I said before, all I remember is him being around when we first opened up the shop. It was maybe a month that he was in town, and it was a long time ago.”  
The more Roe thought back to those early days of the shop, the more she remembered. She could see it clearer now, John and his two sons rolling up in the Impala. Roe even remembered the shitty day care that Martin and John had left her, Sam, and Dean in. John had told them to look after her, like baby sitters.  
Shaking off the memory, hating how history was suddenly repeating itself, she continued. “After that, though… it was mostly the occasional phone call same as Helen. Old friends catching up, and whatnot. If Hellen caught wind of the trouble Martin was in, I can see why she’d contact John. A military guy would probably know how to handle some thugs.”  
“Yea, he sure would… but Dean and I are going to take care of it. We know better than anyone what you’re going through. Our Dad and Martin … they’re really similar guys. We had to make up for our Dad not being around alot, and--Oh! Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry.”  
Roe turned to see that Sam had walked in on her half dressed, but he immediately turned away bashfully heading to the doorway with his eyes covered.  
“I didn’t realise you were….I’m sorry.” He rambled again.  
Something bubbled up in Roe, and she couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped her.  
“Gosh, Sam, you act like you’ve never seen a women before. It’s not like I’m showing anything with a bra and pants on.”  
“Still. Should’ve knocked.” Sam insisted, safely behind the door.  
“Well, lucky for you I’m not all that bashful.” Roe slipped on her shirt, and buttoned it as she made her way to the door. She found Sam sitting on of the beds, with a face like a puppy that just got kicked.  
He looked up to see her crossing her arms, and leaning against the open doorway fully dressed now. She pursed her lips together as if she was suppressing another chuckle.  
“You’ve got better manners than Dean, I’ll give you that.” Roe said, and sat on chair that Dean had pulled up.  
“Well, it’s not hard.” He admitted, finally finally looking up at her. “Having manners better than Dean.”  
“He’s got that whole butch man's-man thing… but I see through it.” Roe shrugged. “Sure, he’s protective, stressed, worried, maybe even a little afraid deep down.… but I’ll bet he’s pretty sincere when he wants to be. A regular Teddy Bear in a Grizzlies skin. So don’t worry, I won’t take those things he said to heart. In some ways, he’s right.”  
Sam flashed her an apologetic look, “You heard all that, huh?”  
“Yea, I heard enough. If your going to have a heated argument, maybe not have it in a cheap motel with paper thin walls...with the door to our adjoining rooms wide open, no less.”  
“Fair enough,” Sam laughed.  
“I remember the two of you,” Roe said. “From all those years ago, that month that you and your dad were in town. They stuck us in that shitty free daycare. That one kid, he kept pulling my pigtails...and it was either you or Dean to deck him.”  
“That’s, ugh, usually more up Deans ally….but if I remember correctly, that actually may have been me.” Sam laughed nervously, pushing his hands through his hair.  
“What were you saying, just before?” Roe gestured back to door, where he’d gotten too distracted and bashful to have finished what he was saying.  
Sam pursed his lips, “I was just going to say that you and I aren’t all that different. I tried to live a life that my father approve of for a long time. I tried to make the family business work for me… When he left, he dropped all of his responsibilities on us, too… and here I am, back in the family business despite it all… and maybe you want to work the shop, and that’s fine.” Sam's eyes drifted to the unconscious man in the chair. “It’s just a shame that he left you with everything else. Like he left you with all the problems, but none of the solutions.”  
“It’s funny…” Roe thought. “I would have never expected Martin to run away like that. You wouldn’t expect a recluse to run away, I just figured he’d burrow in deeper to what he has here. To think about everything he’s seen. War, death… and who knows what else. Only for all that to come barreling through his front door again. I guess even the strongest of men would fear going back to that sort of violence.” Roe shrugged. “All I know is that I’m here picking up the damned pieces. That he intentionally left me to take care of those pieces. Maybe it bothered him, that I wasn’t around as much… that I was off at school. Maybe if I were here, maybe if I didn’t run off… he’d still be here too. I ran off to school, and he got himself into trouble and ran off himself. Maybe being forced back here is my punishment for being the first to run.”  
“That’s a whole lot of maybes.” Sam said.  
Roe figured that it felt like a lifetime ago that she’d used those same lines on Sam.  
Sam rested a hand comfortingly on Roe’s hand as he continued, “You can’t hold this against yourself, Roe. We all deserve to live the lives we want. Sometimes we just have to fight like hell to get it.”  
Roe’s glance flipped from their joined hands, to meet his eyes. She noticed their hazel color for the first time; the deep brown shifting into green, like a verdant lake that ran deeper than expected. For a moment her stormy eyes held his, lightning striking on water.  
Until their attention was unwillfully broken.  
“Isn’t that...sweet.” The man in the chair stirred then, wincing through the pain. “You’re bonding. You’ll be dead by the end of the night, but that’s plenty of time to shack up, if you want to go out with a bang.”  
“I’d be more respectful if I were you,” Sam told him, turning to face him. “Or I’ll turn Roe lose on you again.”  
The man shifted in his chair, obviously not enthused with the idea. “Where the hell am I?” He eventually asked.  
“That’s the least of your concerns right now,” Roe tells him, “because I really need some answers. And you are going to give them to me.”  
“Yea right…”  
“First Question,” Sam begins, “What were you looking for at Martin’s?”  
“Piss off.”  
Sam turned to Roe, a smirk twitching at his lips. “I’ve got a crowbar, or this complimentary cigar cutter that works wonders on fingers. Take your pick, Roe.”  
“Oh, I’ll take the cigar cutter.” Roe stood, circling around the man. She grabbed a fist of a full of his blond hair, forcing him to look her in the eyes. “But after what you tried to pull in the apartment, I’m collecting more than fingers.”  
The man gulped when he saw Roe’s eyes flash below his belt, a vicious intent swirling in their stormy gray color. While Roe knew she’d never--not in a million years--actually be able to do such a thing, she could at least weal the crowbar to his knees well enough to make him think she’d eventually go that far. Luckily for her, the rage she held radiated thoroughly enough from her eyes that the man believed her.  
“Listen, I’ll tell you what I know…” He swallowed from relief when Roe let go of his shaggy hair, and turned away from him to sit across from Sam.  
“But in truth, it ain’t much. I swear. My name is Terrance Smith, I work for a guy Martin’s been talking to. Edward Martinelli deals with antiquities and what not, and Martin found some book, got ahold Eddy to see how much it was. Some book, and old ass leathery one? Religious stuff. I don’t know how much it’s worth, but it’s got to be worth a lot if Martinelli’s willing to risk spilling blood over. He’s sort of a dick, Martinelli, and he doesn’t always come across his items under honorable means. Why else would he hire a piece of trash like me? Like, you think I’m bad? Martinelli is a piece of work you should pray never to meet. I’m putting my life on the line telling you this much, so it better be worth it. You better keep that crazy bitch away from me once I’m done here.”  
Terrence flipped his glance to Roe, but he nagated his sight when she stared back at him.  
“Hey,” Sam shot Terrance a warning glare. “You keep insulting her, and I can’t keep that promise. I might just take another few swings myself.”  
“Okay, okay… gosh.” Terrence shook off the threat, and continued his explanation. “Well, Eddy got it in his mind he could swindle the book out from Martin . When Martin was calling around, seeing how much it was worth, he didn’t seem like too smart of a guy at first. Turns out Martin was smarter than we thought, when Eddy gave him a low-ball price--and I mean dirt cheep, were talking a couple hundred--he started popping off how he wouldn’t sell. He said there were other, bigger, badder buyers. It sort of hit Martinelli hard when Martin said the other folks after the book were far more dangerous. Makes me wonder what the hell sort of friends this guy Martin actually has.  
“Any ways, Eddy wasn’t having it. He thought that the book was as good as his. Started threatening Martin, told him that if he didn’t get the what was his, he’d take the book, take and Martin ’s life while he was at it. He pegged Martin out as a loner, said it would be easy to get the upper hand. Martin had no connections, no friends. Nothing. Or so we thought. So when Martin went missing, Eddy called the bluff. Sent me to get his niece, said that it would draw Martin out. And then you, you giant fucker” Terrance nodded his head at Sam “You and your brother show up out of nowhere. I was just supposed to pick up some chick and bring her to Eddy. I swear, that’s all I know. Now you have got to let me know, so I can disappear just the same as Martin. Eddy’ll have my head on a stick if he knew I told you anything.”  
“So there are two dangerous buyers.” The noise that escaped Roe almost resembled a laugh, though the situation was becoming less amusing by the second.  
“Do you have any idea who this other buyer is?” Sam asked. “Did you hear anything else? From Martin or Martinelli?”  
“I don’t know who they are.” He said earnestly. “All I know is that Martin was scared shitless of them. He said something funny, said something like how they were real monsters.”  
Roe figured it was ridiculous, it wasn’t even like switching one horrible person for another. As far as Roe was concerned, her bad luck just doubled. When she looked over to Sam, she couldn’t place the look that flashed over his face.  
“Great…” Roe sighs. “We finally get some answers, only for double the questions to pop up instead. And double the scumbags to fight off.”  
“Roe,” Sam began “We can figure this out together, we just have to stay ca”--  
Roe lifted a hand to cut Sam off, “Look, I appreciate that you’re trying to stay positive. But just for a second...can you stop trying to make me feel better? Things are going to shit, and I’d like to wallow in it for a few seconds.”  
Sam pursed his lips, and forced out a smile for Roe’s comfort, “Sure.”  
Row tried to rub the tiredness out of her eyes, knowing it was of no use. It was more than one nights lack of sleep that was hitting her now, and hitting her all at once.  
“It’s late,” She finally said. “If I’m skipping class tomorrow for all of this I at least want the benefit of getting my eight hours in.”  
“Yea, sure, I get it.” Sam said, the forced enthusiasm back in his tone.  
Flashing a brief and very forced smile of her own, Roe stepped back into her room and closed the door between them. Sam sighed, collapsing back on the bed with a thump.  
“Lady troubles…” Terrence nodded. “She didn’t even ask you to bed with h--”  
Before Terrence could finish his sentence, Sam grabbed ahold of the chair and whipped him in the bathroom. He closed the door between them, craving silence more than anything. Sam laid back on the bed, pinching the bridge of his nose in an attempt to will away the frustration. The quiet helped for as little as it lasted, before there was a thud at the door followed by the jingle of keys.  
Dean pushed into the room.  
“Did you get any answers?” Dean asked, dropping a six pack on the bed and shaking out of his leather jacket. “Where’s our guy?”  
“We got him to talk. He’s locked in the bathroom because the real problem was getting him to shut up.” Sam managed to pull himself into an upright position.  
Dean sat down, twisting off the top of a bottle. “Well, that’s good news. What’ve we go?”  
Sam relayed all the new information that he and Roe had uncovered in the past half hour, by the end of it they both started on their second beer. Sure there were more questions than ever now, but at least some of the biggest questions from before were answered. Roe was on her way to figuring it out, and maybe with the help of the police she’d get both of these buyers off of her back.  
“Well,” Dean seemed to chipper up as Sam wrapped up the recap. “As far as I’m concerned… all of this is good news. Leave the skeezeball here to the cops so he can testify, Roe can tell local police everything she’s got on Martinelli. The police will keep her safe from this other buyer. While Roe talks to the cops, you and I can skip town. Tomorrow morning we can finally start frying up the bigger fish.”  
“Dude, no.” Sam said with grit. “We can’t just up and leave.”  
“It’s a human thing, like I knew it was.” Dean pushed back. “Ergo, not our gig. Not our friggin’ problem!”  
“Yes it is, Dean!” Sam hushed his brother, whispering heatedly himself. “First of all, the piece of shit in that chair is no more trustworthy that Martinelli likely is. Second of all, who knows what Martinelli is capable off? He seems like a plenty big fish, too. And we have no idea who this second buyer is. Martin said that the other buyers were real monsters, he could have meant that human or otherwise! Besides, how awful would you feel if we skipped town before getting to the bottom of all of this… and something happened to Roe? It’s not our first run-in with dangerous humans, Dean. We lay a hand where help is needed. Any help.”  
“Come on, Sammy…” Dean lifted a hand to pinch his temples. “You said it yourself, you didn’t want to babysit. I take back a lot of what I said about Roe, she’s a good person and maybe she’ll figure out what Martin did and make a decent hunter some day.... But she can handle this herself. She’s a tough chick.”  
Sam pursed his lips, pondering over his brothers words. “Hell, maybe you're right… but it doesn’t feel right leaving.”  
“She’s a grown girl.” Dean added.  
Sam heaved out a sigh, “Fine. We can head out tomorrow… I’ll go talk the game plan over with Roe now.”  
Sam lifted himself up off the end of the bed, and stalked some what begrudgingly to the door. Roe didn’t answer after her gave the door a few taps.  
Sam knocked gain, and followed with a “Hey Roe. You okay?”  
His question was greeted with silence, and after testing the handle he discovered the door was unlocked. He pushed through, looking more carefully this time so that he didn’t invade too much privacy.  
He remembered then, that she’d said she was going to sleep… and was surprised to enter a completely empty room, except for her backpack sitting on the floor next to the bed. The door to her bathroom was left open with it’s light off. Sam gave the room a more thorough search, and even called her name. He realised, perhaps a little too slowly, that she was gone.  
Sam made his way back into he and Deans adjoined room, and gave a sulking look to his brother.  
“She’s gone. She left.” Sam said with a pout, lifting her bag. “She left this, so she couldn’t have gone far.”  
“Oh, come on.” Dean hopped to his feet in aggression. “Where would even she go?”  
“I don’t know, it’s not like she was being held here.” Sam answered. “She wouldn’t go after Martinelli, I’m pretty sure of that. Maybe she went back home? To search for clues about Martin ? Or to the vending machine? ”  
Dean grabbed his jacket, and threw it on hastily. “Come on, let’s go find her before she gets into any more trouble.”  
After slapping duct-tape over Terrence’s mouth, and locking up the Hotel room behind them, the boys headed to the impala. 

 

Part Three

It came to her while she was studying, like a tidal wave the memories crashed back into her mind. It was strange, to be sitting there doing her homework one minute, and then the next she knew where she had to go. Why the memory of her Uncles library only returned to her then, she had no idea. It’s door was hidden behind the dusty shelf in the back of the building they’d only ever used for storing cleaning supplies.  
Had she really been so foolish as to forget something that simple? It didn’t make sense to her, but she saw it so clearly now, so crisp. The shelf could slide over to reveal the heavy sliding iron door. Inside was deep colored hardwood, the finnish worn up and off of the floor lined with red carpet. The walls were lined from top to bottom with texts and scrolls. The large desk strewn with yellowing papers, like papyrus. The pillars from inside marked with strange symbols she didn’t understand, like some kind of warding.  
When the memory flashed before her eyes like some home-made film projecting from her brain; showing the little curly-haired toddler she had been, as she walked along the shelves in awe. Roe had to leave, had to get away from those bickering brothers. It’s not like she would have gotten much sleep listening to Dean probing Sam for details. She had to go back to the shop and see for herself. If her Uncle had left any clues as to where he was, that library would be where he did it.  
The hotel wasn’t too far from the shop, just a quick Jog. She arrived a few minutes later, fumbled with the keys long enough to unlock the shops front door and push her way inside. It was quite in the shop, cool silver light casted down from the high windows and into the shadows. She made her way quickly to the shelf, shocked to see that it had been pushed aside already. The heavy Iron door was still closed, but for the first time since being a child she was seeing it. She hadn’t dreampt that library after all.  
She grabbed the large iron handle, and gave the door a good tug open. A light flooded out from the door, making it so that Roe had to blink against the light until her eyes adjusted. What she saw inside shocked her. The small library was simple in and of itself, everything she remembered, but sitting at that desk… alive, breathing, and smiling up at her…. Was her uncle.  
“Uncle Martin?” Roe stammered. “I… we…. It…. where have you been!”  
“I had to leave, I’m sure you figured that out by now. If I stayed, they’d’ve gotten me.” He said, standing up. “I’m afraid I got myself mixed in with some bad people, and the more I tried to protect you the more I ended up hurting you. Monsters I can handle, but humans…. We’ll they’re far more fearsome. There’s a lot of secrets I kept from you. An entire life that I’ve hidden from you.”  
“No kidding.” Roe crossed her arms, glared sharp eyes around the room. “I thought I’d dreamt this place.”  
“No,” Martin said, looking around the place fondly as he moved from behind his desk. “It’s quite real… the memories you had were just masked, in a way, hidden so deep down that you couldn’t reach them. That was my doing, these runes I’ve put up. Runes, they’re such fascinating things! But fragile. One line of the sygnia breaks, and your memories flood back to you. You see,” He gesture to a thin line gored through the blue symbol on the cement pillar. “I thought I was protecting you. I thought if you weren’t involved with this sort of life… that if you couldn’t remember the things in this room, you’d be protected from all of it. Protected from the life of a hunter. I was wrong, for that firstly. But I was a worse sort of wrong. I could have gone to the police, I could have stood up and fought… but instead….” Martin shrugged, leaning back against the desk. “Well, I’ve made more trouble for myself. Certainly more trouble for you.”  
“What are you even talking about?” Roe asked with potency, looking deeply into her uncles eyes for any sign of madness. “Monsters, magic runes...what the hell is even a hunter? Why didn’t you go to the police? Why didn’t you turn Martinelli in? Why did you leave me, here, thinking you were hurt or worse? Alone!”  
“Because I’m a foolish recluse who snapped under pressure.” Martin answered. “I’m a foolish man who doesn't know how to handle having something after me.”  
“Something?” Roe hissed.  
“We can say someone if it makes you feel better. I’ve never claimed to be much, hell I’m pretty sure I’m certifiably insane… but I meant to return. You should’ve figured I’d come back, I wouldn’t leave you like that. I thought the secrets would keep you safe until then.”  
“Even if I were to believe all of this,” Roe said, “It’s not your job to decide what I can or can’t know or remember.”  
Roe turned away then, taking gulps of air to calm herself. Despite the troubles of these last few weeks, she was happy and infuriated all at once to see Martin again.  
“All that I’ve been through,” Roe begins, “All that you’ve unknowingly put me through... only for you to stalk back to the shop like nothing had happened? To come back in here and dish all of this bullshit. Magic and monsters? That’s your excuse?”  
Roe turned sharpy on her heels, hoping the words would strike all the more if she were to look him in the eyes while saying them. She didn’t expect him to be standing so close when she’d turned, and she’d stammered a bit when a trick of the light casted strange shadows that made his eyes looked glossed over with black.  
She didn’t get the chance to gain back her composure before Martin had brought down the thick bronze bookstopper on her temple. She laid there limply as Martin got to work binding her hands and feet. She hazily gained back consciousness just as Martin propped her up against a shelf, and leaned back into the chair he’d dragged over  
“This would have gone easier, if you weren’t wearing that stupid charm Martin ’d given you.” Martin said, pulling a pack of cigarettes from his breast pocket. “Then again, it would have been easier if Sam and Dean Winchester weren’t in town. I meant to bid my time here, until I found what I was looking for without raising attention. Now we have to play this on fast forward.”  
As Martin rambled, Roe figured she had to be imagining all of what was happening; Martin had bragged all his life about never having even tried a cigarette. The smoking, the crazy talk… the pain that came down on her head like a sledgehammer with every heartbeat. It took her far to long to weigh the consequences of her Uncle finally going insane, only to drag her down into that spiral with him.  
“Martin, what the hell…” Roe shimmied, only just realizing she was bound at the hands and feet. “What’s going on? You need help, Uncle Martin .”  
“Yea, maybe…” He chuckled, placing the cigarette between his teeth to light. After a few flicks of the lighter, the cigarette embers glew a faintly red and reflected in his solid black eyes.  
Roe shook off the haziness, wondering if it was still the shadows or just the blow to her head that was making her see things.  
“We can get you help.” Roe said “Martin , you have to know how crazy this is. Just sto--”  
Roe was cut off when Martin ’s suddenly bustled towards her, and clamped a hand on her throat. “Look kid, I ain’t Martin. You’re Uncle’s not here, not any more. Sure the real Martin ’s screaming deep down in this meat suit, but I’ve got ahold of the wheel. So… to prove I’m not him....”  
With his free hand, Martin took the cigarette out from between his teeth, amusement glimmering out from his eyes at the sight of Roe’s panicked ones. Roe gasped out in pain when he’d stuck the glowing butt of it to her collar bone, scorching her skin until the cigarette was smothered out. Roe whimpered through harsh echo of pain, as Martin casually sat back in the seet and relit the cigarette.  
“I have questions, and if you don’t give me the answers that I’m after… you’ll get another burn.” He grabbed ahold of Roes chin when she looked away from him, blinking back tears. “I’ll char every inch of your body, bitch, if you don’t give me what I’m looking for. Now, the book. The book I gave you, I need it.”  
“I don’t have it,” Roe said, breathing through the pain of her temple and neck as she tried to compose an explanation. In an instant Martin was straddle over her, before she could even finish her sentence.  
“No, I mean… ah!” She couldn’t focus through the pain of another burn being pressed into her neck, as she squealed and helplessly squirmed under his weight.  
“You ready to talk?” He asked once finished, sitting back in his chair again.  
“I am talking! I said I don’t have it, not here with me.” There was no chance in blinking back her tears, they were almost ready to brim over as she continued. “I left in a hurry. It’s with…”  
“You left it with those idiot brothers, Sam and Dean?” Martin suddenly roared, julting to his feet and bringing the back of his hand sharply down on her cheek.

 

Sam and Dean were roaming the streets around the shop, hoping to find Roe somewhere near, beings that there weren’t any lights that they could see from in the shop when they’d passed by. Sam was about to offer that they should go search for her at her college dorm, when they’d gotten the phone call. It was unexpected to see Roe’s name and number scroll across the caller ID.  
“Hey, Roe.” Sam answered. “Where the hell are you?”  
“I got a little, ugh… a little tied up.” She said, and grimace when her voice cracked.  
Dean watched as Sam perked up in the seat next to him, and gave his brother a weary look.  
“Roe, what’s the matter?”  
“Nothing,” Roe said, though the tone of her voice said otherwise. She was about to say something more when Sam heard a muffle of her phone, and sudden voice change.  
“Heya, boys.” Martin said.  
“Martin! Man,” Sam exasperated. “Where’ve you been?”  
“Oh, there’s no Martin here.” Sam heard him say. “He’s more like an annoying ring in my ears at the moment. I’ve got something important of yours, someone rather.”  
“You’re not Martin…” Sam realized, hearing Roe’s distant plea through the phone.  
“No, really?” Martin scoffed. “For as much as I’ve heard about you and your brother, Sam, you’re sort of letting me down.”  
“Okay,” Sam’s voice darkened as he flipped the phone on speaker for Dean. “We’ll cut the crap then. What do you want?”  
“The book.”  
“Book? What book?” Dean asked.  
There was a sudden shriek through the phone, one that could only have come from Roe.  
“Hey!” Martin said harshly, “You were the one who offered cutting the crap, if you play stupid again Roe will take the punishment. You know very well which book. Roe here, said she left it with you. It’s in her backpack, does that sound at all familiar?”  
“I have her bag here with me.” Sam swallowed hard. “Don’t hurt her, we’ll do as you say.”  
“I propose a trade.” Martin began. “I get the book, I smoke out and leave you with the girl. I’ll even throw Martin in unharmed, though his psyche was in a bad enough place as is.”  
“Where and when?”  
“The shop, as soon as you can get here.” Martin said, ending the call then and there.  
Martin tossed the phone on the desk, and continued his pacing throughout the small space. Roe, despite exhaustion and pain, tested the ropes that bound her. When there wasn’t any give, she looked up at the man that raised her with temperament glaring through her eyes.  
“Why are you doing this?” She asked sharply.  
“We’ll sweetie,” Martin began matter of fact like. “We demons tend to not like our publications being traded and bought by hunters.”  
“You’re insane.” Roe breathed.  
“Well, the verdict's still out on whether or not Martin’s crazy.” He shrugged, running a finger along the same row of books from Roe’s memories. “If he isn’t already, he sure as hell will be after this. I, however, am just doing my job. That book is very dangerous in the wrong hands. If the demon who wrote it was worth their salt, they’d have hidden it better.”  
“The man who raised me is a lunatic.” Roe muttered to herself. “A lunatic and a liar.”  
“Well, you’re not wrong. At best you’re only half wrong.” Martin suddenly spun the chair, and sat across from Roe with great excitement. “He lied to you for sure, Martin, but I didn’t. You’re Uncle’s a killer. Or was one. He hunted monsters and demons like me. You’re Aunt Claire too! The life of a hunter is usually short and bloody. Just ask your Aunt. You really think she was mugged? It was a closed casket, wasn’t it? They couldn't find the bitches body. Just blood.”  
“Stop it! You don’t talk about her like that!” Roe rumbled, and her sudden outburst earned her a fist to the gut.  
“You wanted the truth, sweetheart!” Martin said, sitting back again. “I’m just giving it to you. There’s a whole world out there that Martin kept from you. This library is proof of that. He caught you here before, didn’t he? Only to bury the memories with these runes. I’m telling you. Monsters, demons, heaven, hell… it’s all real. You’ve got a lot to learn if you’re going to grow up into a big strong hunter like Uncle Martin.”  
The sudden sound of metal on metal made Roe and Martin look up to the doorway of the library. Dean rolled back the door, as Sam waited there, clinging a bone handled knife so tight his knuckles were nearly white. Something deep in Roe churned, fearing her Uncles life despite his brutality towards her.  
“He’s insane.” Roe told them as they lurked near. “He’s lost it, he finally snapped. Please, be careful.”  
“Do you have my book?”  
Dean glares through simmering eyes as he shuffles through Roe’s backpack, eventually pulling out the ancient book. As he does so, he circles around Martin, walking deeper into the room. His eyes never left Martin, like a predator sizing up his prey. All the while Sam lurched in the opposite direction, towards Roe.  
“A deal's a deal.” Dean said, holding the book. “No one has to get hurt.”  
“Well, you’re just ruining all the fun.” Martin said as he shuffled his feet with a pout, until suddenly his dark eyes flashed to Dean.  
Martins eyes gleamed black with mischeoff. As Sam helped Roe to her feet, she knew she was going just as crazy. She watched, entirely befuddled, as Dean suddenly rocketed across the room. Dean moved as Martin’s arm did, until Dean clung against the shelves, pinned several feet above the ground.  
Sam surged forward then, towards Martins back, knife at the ready. Roe watched wide-eyed as her uncle released a sudden stream smoke as black as the night sky from his mouth, his head tipped back. When the smoke dissipated, Dean dropped to the floor at the same moment Roe did. 

Though her vision was still black, Roe could hear the distant muffle of voices. Her eyes fluttered slowly open, and she blinked through the sudden white light until her eyes adjusted. The first thing she saw was the moon winking through the familiar sunroofs of the shops ceiling. She realized that she was on the small couch of the shop’s reading lounge--not all of her though, as her head had been placed in Sam Winchesters lap.  
She noticed the exact placement of her head a bit to slowly, but once it snapped to her attention she hoisted herself to sit upright. This was a considerable mistake, as her head immediately punished her. Little bursts of color started to bespeckle her eyesight, and she hadn’t noticed the soft murmur of the warning that came from Sam, nor did she notice his hand gently taking her shoulder to guid her back down. She heard the words hazily through her pain, murmurings of concussions and soft promises of safety.  
Was he talking to her? She wasn’t there, not all the way enough to know for sure. Beings that she was laying down again, the pain slowly subsided… dissipating to a slow constant, rather than a skull splitting throb.  
She looked up at Sam, who looked down at her, and she realized she was back in his lap.  
“W-what?” She finally asked.  
“Lay still, you might have concussion. You....” Sam swallowed nervously, his eyes flashing between Dean and Martin sitting the chairs across from him.  
Martin gave him a nod of approval.  
“You fell.” Sam continued. “Down the stairs from the shops top level.”  
Roe scanned her memory for anything of the sort, but found nothing. Infact, the only thing she remembered… was studying in bed at the Motel. How had she gotten here, at the shop? Why did it feel like her head had been slammed in a car door?  
“Ante Ann, Ante Ann.” Dean murmured. “It’s gotta be harsh waking up from that fever dream.”  
Martin threw a hand across Dean’s shoulder, and Sam managed to catch Roe before she stood up. Sam kept her still, despite the shock of her seeing Martin.  
“Hey, squirrel.” Martin said abashedly, his eyes riddled with regret and guilt all at once. “I guess I have a lot of explaining to do.”  
Roe wanted nothing more than to get up and march over to him. She wanted to punch him and hug him all at once. She wanted to scream at him, she wanted to cry… so many emotions; unwarranted emotions crashing into her all at once.  
But all she managed was a quiet “You were gone.”  
“I know.” Martin sighed. “I didn’t want to leave.”  
“Then why did you?” There was a harshness in her voice.  
“I didn’t know how to handle being in trouble with those people.” Martin knew his lie would sound believable.  
Even still, Martin had rehearsed what he’d say all the while that Roe was unconscious.  
“You could have called the cops.”  
“I did!” Martin said. “Well atleast, I called them now. After I heard what they did to you. I didn’t think they’d come after you. My biggest mistake was not calling the cops sooner, but your safe now. It’s handled.”  
“And the book?” Roe wondered.  
Sam, Dean, and Martin all exchanged weathering looks. The only thing that had half-comforted Sam and Dean, was learning why the Demons were so gung-ho on protecting it. Though the book was very dangerous in the hand of a hunter, the knowledge inside was harmless for Demons to possess as most of demons knew the information to begin with. While it would have been nice for the book to not have gone up in smoke with the Demon, it was also nice knowing that the Demons didn’t have a one-up on them. All in all, Sam and Dean were going to leave town just the same as they came in: nothing to carry but exhaustion.  
“I found it in your bag and got the hell rid of it.” Martin finally said. “It wasn’t worth the trouble, money or otherwise.”  
“H-how long was I out for?” Roe asked.  
“Oh, I’d say 40, 45 minutes?” Sam answered.  
Roe grimace, reaching a hand up to her soarer than hell temple. Why they hadn’t thought to check her into a hospital was beyond her, so she considered herself lucky that she seemed okay for the time being. Short term amnesia aside.  
It was a difficult decision for Martin; erasing Roe’s memories while she slept. He was lucky that all of her memories regarding the demon, the magic...was encased in the library. By fixing the broken line in the rune, all memories of the library and what happened within it were gone.  
It was a decision that Dean and Sam disapproved of, especially Sam. Hadn’t Roe faught enough these past few weeks to earn the right to her own damned memories? Sam certainly thought so. That special glint in Sam’s eye when it came to Roe didn’t go unnoticed by Martin. Martin made a promise, to himself and all, to protect Roe. And Roe wasn’t ready to know the truth about hunting, or it’s world. She may never be.  
After all, hadn’t he fought hard enough to give her a happy and normal life? Go on, he told himself, let her continue thinking that the worst sort of monsters in the world were really just men. Men like Martinelli. Martin figured the Cops must’ve nabbed both Martinell and the scumbag who worked for him. Thanks the a little anonymous tip, it was handled. It was easy when the cops already had a file on hand for Martinelli.  
Roe was safe, and that was all that matters. Knowing that was all that kept Sam and Dean from continuing to fight Martin about the memories… that and the promise he made to seek professional help. There was a bed already reserved for Martin in the Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital. But first, he had to explain what he could to Roe. When Sam and Dean left town the morning after tomorrow, they’d be taking Martin with him and dropping him off.  
As if Roe could read his mind, she asked the million dollar question.  
“So,” Roe said. “What now?”  
Sam lifted his eyebrows at Dean, and nodded off towards the front of the store. Dean nodded in agreement, knowing this was a conversation best kept between Martin and Roe.  
“We’ll let you guys talk in private.” Sam said, ever so gently lifting Roe so that he could slip away. Sam and Dean walked their way to the front of the shop, which was just starting to lighten in hues of blue as the world began to stretch awake. Somewhere in the distance, the horizon was beginning it’s slow roll into the morning.  
“I’m not well.” Martin began, refusing to look fully into Roe’s confused eyes. “I’ve never been a rational man… but up until recently I could at least say that I’m a good man. I can’t say that after what I’ve done to you. I can’t say that these past few weeks are what made me crazy. It’s not healthy, never having left the shop. Never having talked about… well about what happened in New Mexico. Now that things are in order, and you’re safe… I’ve checked myself into the Glenwood Springs Psychiatric Hospital. I need help, and I’ll find help there.”  
Thought it came as a harsh, horrible blow at first…. Row hadn’t time to put a sentence together before she realized it really was in his best interest. The shop, though, would suffer.  
“What about the Hidden Kingdom?” Roe wondered.  
“It’s set up to run itself, practically. If you continue working the hours you do, and hire a help to fill in during your classes… things will be fine in your hands until I--if I come back. Things won’t change too much for you. Instead of me being locked away in my office, I’ll be a two hour drive east.”  
“I’m not ready for that.” Roe blurted, immediately nervous at the thought of running the shop herself. “I’m not capable of-of”  
As she stammered, Martin raised a calming hand. “You are, though. You’ve practically ran this place, anyways, since high school. You’re better with people than I am. If anything, you’ll finally get the independence and control over this place you’ve wanted. You can finally make the changes you’ve wanted to, spruce the place up. Apartment and other. Think of it as a fresh start.”  
Roe sighed, entirely doubtful.  
“Promise,” Martin began. “That you’ll do your best at it, for me? I know it’s a lot to ask.”  
“I promise” Roe said with a quivering lip, dreading the question that came next. “When do you leave?”  
“Tomorrow. Sam and Dean are sticking around another day, while I pack. I’m leaving with them, and they’ll drop me off.”  
“I can drive you, it--”  
Martin cut her off with a sullen shake of his head. “The goodbye would be too much, it’s best for us to say them now. Sam will take you back to your dorm, so I can say goodbye to this old place. You can come and visit anytime, ofcourse. It’s just that… I have to say goodbye properly, or else I’ll never want to leave.”  
Roe nodded solemnly in return, knowing it was a difficult truth to swallow and a necessary one. There was no harder goodbye she’d ever given, even if it was a temporary one. She tried to calm herself, to push back the tears by telling herself that she’d be visiting him within the week. It only half helped, as they’d exchanged long hugs and headed their separate ways.

 

Part Four

The next morning Roe woke to the sound of a quick rap on the door of her single dorm on campus. She hauled out of bed, and peeked through the small hole to see who it was. She knew Martin was leaving soon, and hoped he’d come for a better goodbye. However, she was surprised to see who it’d really been standing there.  
“Sam,” She said after opening the door. “What are you doing here?”  
“Just, uh, checking in…” He said, negating his view from her to the ceiling.  
Roe laughed, realising how uncomfortable her pajamas had made him. She was wearing a sports bra and pair of boxer shorts. She’d seen women out jogging in less, and was fairly sure a man like Sam had to have seen more than that in his time.  
“Oh, come on.” Roe snorted, walking back into her room and plopping cross legged on her bed. “You’ve really got that ‘nice-guy’ thing down packed.”  
Very hesitantly, Sam made his way through the door… but just barely, as he’d shut the door only to lean back against it.  
“Dean took Martin up to the hospital, I told him to circle back around and get me when he’s done.”  
“Oh,” Roe nodded, somewhat surprised. “Has our charming little town gotten to you?”  
“Yea…” Sam finally dropped his eyes from the ceiling, but only to look at his shuffling.“It certainly has its charm. I’ve heard there’s this bookshop nearby, I guess it’s the must-stop place of the whole town. They’ve always got hitmen passing through, shady black-market dealers, and weirdo guys are always trying to break in, too. A real adventure spot.”  
“Oh yea,” Roe laughed along. “I’ve heard of that place, it’s like the real life Mansion Murder Mystery.”  
“With a pretty cute girl working as a shopkeeper…” Sam lifted his gaze from his shoes to Roe, and Roe realized he had the same confident smirk as Dean when he wanted to. “Or so I’m told.”  
“Really?” Roe breathed, pushing a slender hand through her sleep enraged hair, and negating her eyesight from him, so that she could breath easier. “Sounds like she’s got a lot on her plate. She could probably do with a distraction.”  
Roe had a feeling that Sam was a right deal more dangerous than his brother when he turned on the charm he so obvious had. Maybe she was right; and Sam didn’t realise how badly he’d wanted to kiss her until just then, watching her gray eyes turn stormy and sultry. He knew it wouldn’t be fair to kiss her, at least not in the way he wanted to kiss her.  
He thought of the sudden rush of blood and warmth that would consume him if he did kiss her, as strong and abruptly as he wanted to… so that she knew that he didn’t mean much by it, so that he could leave after the kiss as suddenly as he’d come. But she was burned and bruised, and even though the good nights rest seemed to have done her well… he would let her make the move if there was to be one.  
However, Roe knew she wasn’t the sort to call the shots….she played the game before, and knew the roll that best suited her interest. In the end, that was Sam’s undoing… watching her glance up at him during there tension riddled silence, as she peaceful played with a tendril of her hair.  
His gut tightened, but his hand moved on intsinct towards her tumbling locks of hair. He ran his hand gently through her the black curls, careful to brush his thumb very lightly along her bruised temple to avoid causing her pain. She seemed too like it enough to lean into his light caress, and it either was entirely painless or just painless enough that she didn’t mind. So he lifted his other hand, and placed it so that he could caress each side of her face.  
She didn’t realise that her eyes were closed, she didn’t know when she’d even closed them. She was amused that his large and slightly calloused hands were surprisingly gentle. She let herself enjoy it, even though it was her personal opinion that gentle had no place in a bedroom--or at least it had no place in hers. The sweetness of it filled her with a sort of warmth, a warmth that radiated from the inside out.  
He waited for her to make the move, and when he realized she wasn’t going to make it… To hell with it he thought, and grabbed fist full of her hair so that he could quickly guid her to him. He kissed her like that; holding Roe to his chest, her kneeling on the bed as he hungrily nipped at her lips. Every muscle in him tightened as she kissed him back with a ferocity that matched his own, his muscles screaming as if to remind him how long it’d been since he’d last done this with a woman. But he knew how long it’d been, and he damn well knew it with Roe’s taught frame pressed against him.  
He’d only meant to kiss her, he didn’t want to overstep boundaries and leave room for expectation or disappointment. And even though the situation between his legs felt pretty sirius, he didn’t want Roe to think they were sirius. But she’d flirted with him, didn’t she? Roe thought she made it clear that she was looking for something sirius just as much--or little--as he was. Even still, Roe could tell that he was holding back.  
So she decided to do something very daring in hopes to keep the frenzy alive; she ran a hand down his chest, taking her hand ever so slowly lower, inch by inch, until she reached her intended destination and confirmed her animated curiosity. The breath hitched in Sam’s throat, and Roe felt as he instinctively pressed against her hand. His breath continued at a rakish rate, as their kiss grew in fervor.  
He had either lost his balance, or didn’t think as he took her down: either way, she fell flat on the bed so that he could fall on top of her. She didn’t mind one bit, feeling his astute body pressing her into the mattress. It was a pathetic twin sized bed, with hardly enough room for her, let alone enough room for all of Sam. But the size of the bed wouldn’t much matter, if she got the chance to wrap herself as tightly around Sam as she wanted to.  
With the zeal of the kiss doubling, Roe’s breath deepend. As she went to take a breath, she was immensely pleased when Sam took the opportunity to flicker his tongue between her teeth. He shivered at her verdant approval, when her hand knotted through is hair to pull him closer, the other hand still between his legs working fucking wonders on what laid beneath his zipper. He couldn’t help but wonder, but lust for what her hands could do if there hadn’t been denim between them, if she actually had ahold of him.  
Before he could fully comprehend what the low grumble was, the growl had escaped him. Roe, rather than shying away from it like he’d expected, purred and arched under him… and hell if that didn’t push him too close to the point of no return. Sam hoped and prayed that she wouldn’t tap out, and if she did… he hoped to fuck she’d do it soon.  
If she were to shy away from him, or bow out any later, he’d have to work like hell to back off of her. But his greatest hope was answered when he felt a relief of pressure as she’d popped the button of his jeans open. She fought a little harder to draw down the zipper.  
Roe snaked her other hand from around his neck, down to his zipper. Roe knew well that the tightness that strained the zipper from below was both tempting and frightening, stark evidence for what was to come for her. Finally she eased the zipper down, and with the easing of that pressure Sam let lose another shiver of delight.  
Sam nearly cried out when she drew her hand around him, and started that rhythmic massage. To contain himself, he buried his face in her hair, biting down on his lip to muffle out the maon. Eventually he dragged his lips back Roe’s, as she stroked him closer to the edge.  
“Hell,” He grimaced with pleasure, pressing his forehead to her’s. “Fuck, you better be okay with this. I won’t be able to back off of you, here shortly, if you decide you aren’t. ”  
“Oh, I’m okay with this.” Roe purred under him.  
“Then you better stop that.” Sam pushed her hands aside, pinning them at either side of her head by her wrists. He kept her pinned as he sat up straighter, trying to steady his scattered breathing. “Or there’ll be nothing left to be okay with,” Sam clarified when he caught her blinking up at him with confusion.  
He lowered himself slowly to her, brushing his lips lightly against her collarbone. He’d been careful to avoid the burns, the bruising. Roe looked down to see him work his way around the burns that her sports bra left revealed, how ever the hell she got burns she didn’t know. He flicked his eyes up to meet hers as his lips danced along her collarbone. He swept his lips up to her neck and clamped his lips and teeth down on her. She huffed out in pleasure, knowing well that was her weakest point. Sam realised it too, as Roe moved with delight under him, and so he ravished her neck all the more. Before she knew it, her bra was off, and her panties were down.  
She gave out a satisfactory moan, waiting for him. She expected him to slide into her, to send her into absolute ecstasy with what had to be the biggest she’d ever seen. But he’d only lowered his lips back to her collar bone, then lowered them even still to her chest, then her ribs, then her belly, then her hips, and then between her legs.  
“Oh, hell!” She cried out in delight as his fingers slid between her legs too, his hands and tongue working wonders on her all at once, tormenting her into absolute throws of pleasure. A warmth began to spread within her, radiating heat and electricity through her entire body. The heat swelled, and her toes curled, a warning that she was about to tumble over the ledge….But just before she did, he drew away from her, left her laying their panting and yearning for more.  
“Sam!” She began to beg. “Mmm. I-I...I want.”  
“I know.” He murmured, drawing himself back up to her. She met his eyes just inches from hers now and felt him pressing against her, so she waited again from him to pierce through her--to move into her. But again, he didn’t.  
“I want you,” Roe quivered, begging now. “I want you inside me, please.”  
“Gotta earn it,” Sam answered quickly, mashing his lips to hers for a hot heavy second, before lifting himself again.  
He raised himself over her, her laying flat against the mattress still, until he was strattling her at the waist, then raised himself again until his enticing member was just in front of her lips. She looked up to him kneeling above her, and he drew his finger lightly down the bridge of her nose. His finger found her mouth, and pushed through her lips. She welcomed it and welcomed him, even if it was just his finger. But it wasn’t just his finger for long, as he used his finger as a point of entry and something else followed. He drew her mouth open wider, and lifted her head to his groin. He thrust himself into her mouth, and she took it willingly. It was what she wanted, to work him into the frenzy she was already in. To make him want her as badly as she wanted him. And if she had to earn it, she would.  
And she was earning it, Sam decided. She was earning it well and plenty wit that mouth of hers… and she had to know it too. He shuddered as she worked tenuously on him, as he gripped her beds headboard so tight he fear he’d break it if he lost any more control. But he was losing it, losing his strength to hold back as he pulled her head closer to him, as he pulled himself further into her welcoming mouth. An expert mouth that covered his erection completely, a mouth that drew him closer to the peak. Until he couldn’t take it, and he pulled out and away from her.  
She was disappointed when he’d pulled away, but only for the second it took him rip of his shirt--the only layer of clothing that was left between them--to flatten out over her again.  
“Arch your back,” He murmured in her ear.  
She listened, and arched with a purr, cat like beneath him. As she did this, he finally answered her pleeds. As she lifted up to him, he plunged into her. She cried out, and moaned with absolute ecstasy as he pulled from her again, only to greedily stroke back in. He did it over and over again; planting deep, hearty, and greedy strokes into her. Strokes that were laced with a madness, a wildness that brought her to own madness. She wanted it rough, and he was more than willing to give it to her rough.  
He grimaced when she bridled up, and wrapped around him, taking the full brunt of his aggressive thrusts. He picked her up, fell back with her so that she was straddled on top of him, riding him as he sat. And even though she was on top, he made it well and clear he was still in charge by the way he grabbed her hips and pulled himself deeper with every heart-stopping plunge into her. Until he couldn’t possibly, could physically go any further into her. And when that outer wall wouldn't permit to him surrendering his last few inches into her, he took to a hearty speed instead.  
Roe knew she’d come to that speed, feeling her and his heart rate match. But before she could truly lose herself to that rhythm, she felt him lift off the bed all together, her still straddling him as he pressed her to the wall. She bobbed against the wall with ever delectable angle that hips offered her. He was growling as he found his speed, growing closer to the edge with Roe. Until, with a sudden burst of Sam’s ferocity, she found herself thrown, harder this time, against another wall. With the sheer bursts of pleasure he stirred into her, she couldn’t tell if it hurt being slammed against the wall. And then, losing the last of his restraint, he slid her off the wall and onto her desk.  
It was there, sprawled across the desk, that they surrendered to the appalling force and speed. They worked each other--too fast, to coarsely--to that peak. Roe, crying out at first, fell breathlessly down that climatic spiral just as Sam did. Sam emptied into her, his breathing rackish and body convulsing as he collapsed himself over her. They laid there, sweat cooling, bodies limp and exerted, for a long while. It was Sam who drew Roe up, holding her wedding style so that he could carry her back to bed. He placed her on the bed, and slid in next to her.  
“I would liked to have gone slower than that.” Sam said, still panting.  
“Well…” Roe turned over to face him with a sex-happy grin, her muscles screaming with a protest. “That was, what, half an hour we just spent? We still have… three and a half hours to take it slow. Do you think you’re up for it?”  
Sam didn’t reply, but pulled himself on top of her, already hard and yearning for more. He slid back into her, and when her eyes rolled back with pleasure, he figured he’d given her his answer.


End file.
